


Cold Fusion

by Fantasyenabler



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Justice League: The Flashpoint Paradox, The Flash (TV 2014), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alex Summers is still the nexus of all realities, Barry Allen made a bad decision, But Len knows how to fix it, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Leonard Snart is now the Oculus of Time, M/M, Mick rory/Ray Palmer implied, Multi, Scott summers/jean grey/Logan implied, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:52:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7456954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasyenabler/pseuds/Fantasyenabler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex thought he was dead when Apocalypse's portal pulled him in and then spat him back out somewhere over the ocean. Fortunately for him, his secondary mutation kicked in right at that moment and caught the attention of someone a few realities over who could really use some help rebooting a messed-up timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm one of those hard core comic book fans who saw First Class and walked out going, "But Darwin should have survived that! He survives everything!" and then saw Apocalypse, watched Alex Summers die in a FIERY EXPLOSION, and cried, "Bullshit! Okay, moviemakers, you're not even trying to be accurate now." 
> 
> So, add to the above my gut feeling that Leonard Snart didn't actually die on Legends of Tomorrow, and the fact that The Flash actually went ahead and had Barry set off the Flashpoint Paradox, and you have the resulting "comicsverse meets movieverse meets TVverse meets cartoonverse" fix-it fic. 
> 
> Sigh. This is what happens when you find the place between rage and geekery. (Sorry, Charles. I'm too aggravated to be serene.)
> 
> ETA: Chapters will alternate between Alex and Leonard's povs

If there's one thing Alex Summers can take pride in, it's that he's changed a lot since Charles and Erik pulled him out of a jail cell twenty years ago, that he's no longer the stereotypically troubled delinquent who could barely control his highly destructive powers. No, ever since he got back from Vietnam ten years ago, and found out from his asshole father's youngest cousin that she'd adopted his newest baby half-brother, he's worked hard to center himself. To grow up. To be the older brother little Scotty so badly needed him to be.

Unfortunately, while his explosive plasma powers are now under his control, he can't always say the same for the equally explosive disposition he acquired during his years in the foster care system and later on in juvie. Granted, the years of training he received from both Charles and the U.S. Army managed to sand off a lot of his more impulsive edges, but ultimately Alex knew that he'd always be a "Shoot first. Ask questions later," sort of person, which is why he opted for college and grad school after the war, rather than accepting Charles' offer to come back and be a "mutant power trainer" at his latest, greatest incarnation of The Charles Xavier Academy for Gifted Youngsters.

It's also why he's currently plummeting to his death somewhere over what looks to him like the middle of an ocean. Because he couldn't just stand back and let Charles be taken by Erik and his newest pack of allies. He had to rush forward and catch the trailing edge of that teleportation portal, to let it pull him as far as it could before its owner caught him out and kicked him off, to do everything that he knew was within his powers to do.

Unfortunately, he's never figured out to how to use his powers to fly. Hank used to mumble about the possibility way back when, but they already had Sean as their flier, and Alex didn't see the point of setting himself up to be pushed off of the edge of a satellite dish anytime soon.

Now, it looks like he'll get the chance to talk to Sean firsthand about whether or not he should have joined him in his flight training, and maybe even get the chance to apologize for not being there when Trask kidnapped him and ripped him open and took him apart in ways Alex has only allowed himself to think about in his deepest, darkest nightmares.

His nightmares, and sometimes his more naively optimistic dreams. Although in those dreams, Sean isn't the only one Alex manages to save from death's untimely grasp. 

No, there's someone else. Someone he's honestly not sure if he's ready to face.

Because if he owes Sean several dozen apologies, then he definitely owes Armando a few hundred more.

He's just not sure what he's going to say to him, he thinks, as he watches the ocean's surface draw near. He's had twenty years to prepare, and he still doesn't have the slightest clue.

He can only hope that Armando's been able to see how much his death meant to Alex, how even after decades his absence still feels so real, so empty, so haunting.

He's still hoping this as he closes his eyes and prepares for the impact with the water to crush him.

He's still hoping when he opens his eyes and realizes that he's no longer falling through the air.

Instead, he's standing in the middle of what looks to him like the remains of a bombed-out science complex. The kind only a genius like Hank or Charles could ever hope to build.

And he's not standing there alone, or at least he doesn't think he's alone. There's something hovering in front of him, some sort of energy wavering and trying to take shape.

Energy that ultimately takes on the shape of a man.

"Huh," the man says, as he pushes back the hood of his parka. "And I thought I looked young for my age." He shakes his head. "Makes getting a decent drink difficult, doesn't it? But then, it also causes people to underestimate you." His lips tilt slightly, as his mouth slowly shifts into a smirk. "And I'm willing to bet that like me, you know how to make the most of people underestimating you."

Alex can feel his mouth falling open, feel it moving before he can even begin to stop it. "What the hell?" he hears himself say.

The man's smirk deepens. "Now, now," he says. "We're not quite there yet." He cants his head and purses his lips before flattening them into a thin line. "But we could be there soon. Which is why I've 'asked' you here."

"You 'asked' me," Alex hears himself mutter, his brain and his mouth still moving independently of each other. He pushes himself to get his act together, just enough that both his brain and his mouth are on board when he finally asks, "And just where the fuck is here?" 

Parka Man shakes his head and grins. "You'll see, kid," he says as he waves his hand and more energy forms start to appear. "Just give me a minute to pull some crap together, and then I promise, you'll see."

The energy forms twist and shift, turning themselves into screens, like those Alex would see in a movie theater.

He's not sure he wants to watch these particular movies though.

No, he's not sure at all.


	2. Watching

As the “screens” set up, Leonard Snart allows his grin to slip a bit. Exerting his will over what’s left of the Time Oculus still strains him, still pulls at the seams of his non-corporeal being. But he knows that he needs to ignore the strain, needs to do everything he can to sell the story he’s about to tell. 

Because every time he turns his newfound “inner eye” on what’s happening in the timestream, he can see that things are only getting worse.

Case in point—

“I can’t keep her steady,” Sara is saying, as she manipulates the controls built into the Waverider’s pilot’s chair and steers the timeship around the nooks and crannies of the part of the timestream known as Jurgen’s Ridge. “The new shielding’s still letting in little bits of ‘spray’,” she says, as her assassin’s reflexes save the ship from skidding into a whirlpool of temporal energy. “And each time they hit us, they knock us that much farther off of our initial course.” 

She glances back over her shoulder at where Rip and Mick are leaning their heads down over the center console, studying their maps of the timestream, and for once, pooling the knowledge that their former bosses, the Time Masters, imparted to each one of them. “We need a null zone,” Rip says, as he trails his fingertips across the map. “Somewhere we can regroup for a bit—”

“There,” Mick says, as he points to a space a short distance away from Rip’s hand. “There,” he says again, before calling out to Sara, “Blondie. Three degrees westward.”

“Got it,” Sara says, as her hands start making the adjustments. 

As she does, Rip sighs and rubs at his eyebrows, the only sign he gives of feeling any discontent over having a former temporal bounty hunter be the one to make that last course correction. “Gideon,” he says, as he drops his hand back down to the map. “Can you give us some information on the shields, please? I was under the impression that the new modulator Mr. Jackson and Dr. Palmer recently installed was supposed to stop these problems.”

“Indeed,” Gideon says, the artificial intelligence’s cultured, feminine voice ringing across the bridge. “I believe the operative phrase there is ‘supposed to,’ Captain. Unfortunately, the reality is that the modulator is not quite up to the task.”

Its simulated British accent echoes in the space above the console. And once again makes Leonard wonder just who it was that wanted its speech patterns to mimic those of its captain’s. Was it the Time Masters? he thinks. Or was it Rip Hunter himself? 

The sound of approaching footsteps pulls Leonard’s attention back towards the hallway leading into the bridge. “That’s not possible, Gideon,” Dr. Martin Stein says as he enters the room. “According to the calculations Raymond and I made about the energy forces currently trying to tear the timestream apart, the new modulator should be ensuring that the Waverider’s shields are always set to provide maximum efficiency.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you then, Gray,” a new voice says over the intercom, one Leonard recognizes as that of Stein’s much younger partner-in-superheroing, Jefferson Jackson, the other half of Firestorm’s “two men become one” nuclear matrix. “Because the truth is the only reason the shields are working half as well as they are right now is because Gideon and I have spent the last few minutes back here in the engine room, making a hell of a lot of manual adjustments.”

“What?” Stein says, as he tilts his head up towards the ceiling of the bridge and spins around in a frustrated little circle that would have had Leonard smirking at Stein back in the days when Leonard was still a purely physical being and a member of the Waverider’s crew. “That’s not—Raymond, are you hearing this?”

“Loud and clear,” Ray Palmer’s voice sings out across the intercom, and Leonard nearly rolls his eyes when he realizes that despite his current status as an energy form, the slightest exposure to Ray’s naively optimistic attitude is still enough to gnaw away at the edges of Leonard’s nonexistent nerves. “I’m actually making an adjustment right now—”

The Waverider shudders, cutting off Ray’s words, and causing everyone on the bridge to seemingly stop and hold their breaths. 

Then the ship starts up again, and Leonard almost shakes his head as he watches them all unclench and exhale.

“Shields at maximum efficiency,” Gideon says, her tone one of light amusement. “It seems that Dr. Palmer’s adjustments have had the desired effect, Captain.”

Rip nods and opens his mouth as if to speak. 

Only to stop as Mick growls up towards the ceiling, “Nice job, Haircut,” and Ray chirps back, “Gee, thanks, Mick,” the unabashedly sincere tone of those last few words causing the corners of Rip’s mouth to drop down into a decidedly confused little frown.

It seems that Leonard isn’t the only one wondering just what the hell is going on between his former partner-in-crime and the idealistic newbie superhero. By all rights, Ray should wear on Mick’s nerves the same way he does on Leonard’s. But for some reason, he doesn’t, a situation that caused no end of consternation for Leonard back when he was a part of the crew.

Sara, on the other hand, acts like she finds it hilarious. “Aw,” she says, her blue eyes dancing, even as they continue to focus on the course ahead. “You two are so sweet, Mick—”

“Shut up and drive, Blondie,” Mick says, without even looking at her, his gaze turned back down towards the maps lying on the console.

“Aye, aye, sir,” she says, as she throws a grin back over her shoulder, her face alight with that same sneaky, snarky energy that not so long ago had never failed to draw forth both Leonard’s attention and admiration.

Still does, it seems, despite it having been months since he’s seen her in the flesh. Since he was finally brave enough to broach the idea of them both having “feelings,” only to lose his chance to see where that idea might take them when he sacrificed himself to take out the Oculus.

An Oculus that isn’t actually gone, as it turns out. The same way that Leonard isn’t actually dead.

At least, Leonard thinks he isn’t. Or perhaps more accurately, he hopes he isn’t.

Because if he is, then this plan he’s put together is most likely doomed to go nowhere.

And then where will Sara and the rest of his crewmates be?

Speaking of his plan—

“Um, Parka Man,” he hears someone say. “Are you, you know, okay over there?”

“Peachy,” he says without even really thinking about it, as he focuses his attention back away from the events taking place in the middle of the broken chaos that’s currently the timestream. “Just needed to check on a few things.” He reaches out his hand and waggles one of the floating screens. “And now that I have, I think we should be good to go.”

He watches as the other man— _Alex_ , he thinks—regards him warily. “Okay,” Alex says, even as his body shifts into a more combat ready stance.

_Good for you, kid,_ Leonard wants to say. _I may have saved your life, but that doesn’t automatically mean that you should trust me._

He doesn’t though, because the truth is that he needs Alex to trust him. He needs it more than anything he’s ever needed before.

Because if he doesn’t get it, it won’t be just the Waverider and its crew that’ll end up fucked up all to hell.

No, it’ll be the whole damn timestream. The one Barry Allen unwittingly turned into a twisted pile of goo when he changed the past and ended up setting the Time Wraiths and the Speed Force against each other. 

Which means that Leonard needs to stop them.

Any way he can.


End file.
